The Pain That Doesn’t Subside
by Telturwen
Summary: Post NFA. Gunn wakes up in a hole in the ground and all he can do is stare at the sky. He remembers everything from the battle. And he knows he's all alone.
1. These Wounds

**Author's Note: **Obviously, I don't own Angel. If I did, I wouldn't be posting on this site. Credit goes to the makers.  
Anyway, I wrote this randomly and if I get enough reviews, I'll probably continue with it. Otherwise, it probably won't go anywhere. Which would be sad. :'(

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The Pain That Doesn't Subside**

Chapter 1  
_These Wounds_

Waking up at the bottom of a scorched hole in the ground, surrounded by nothing but dead corpses and ash, Gunn had found himself bloodied and bruised, unable to move muscle or limb. All he could do was open his eyelids to find a gaping gray sky, shading its stars from the world and stopping the sweet rain from falling down on his face. He was alive; maybe the only one who still was in L.A. The demon army had looked like it overshadowed the entire city when it came towards them all those hours—or was it days?—ago. He shut his brown eyes and felt his body relaxing, drifting off to sleep.

- - - - -

He sat up and yelled, calling out names and trying agonizingly to stand up on his bone-shattered legs, attempting to lift himself with his crushed hand. He heard a voice behind him that said, "Charles! You need to lay down…just relax! _Slowly _lay down."

The voice was soft and, he suddenly realized, so was the ground beneath him. He was no longer in the hellhole. There was someone taking care of him—someone who cared. But he could no longer open his eyes; the lids were too heavy to lift. Carefully, he laid himself back down on the mattress underneath him and again, holding no will to suppress it, fell into the nightmares once more.

- - - - -

"I'm not asking you how much it will cost. Trust me, I have that covered."

"You will regret this."

"Just do it. I'm not asking."

Gunn could hear the agitated voices circling around his head, weighing him down and making his eyes spin inside their sockets. He could hear them when they whispered as loud as if they were screaming. It made his brain pulsate and beat against the sides of his skull with every syllable.

He couldn't be alive. He had been on the brink of death before the battle had even started. Illyria had said he would only last ten minutes…minutes he had planned on making the most glorious of his life. Why was he still alive? Why couldn't he feel any of the pain? He should have been screaming in pain with all the wounds he tallied

He remembered the fight—every second of it. Illyria was fighting fifty to one, mauling the demons with a passionate fury. Spike was hacking them all to pieces, leaving no survivors. Angel had practically sliced the dragon in two after having his chest ripped open by its claws. He also remembered the spear that stuck through Illyria's gut, and the stake as it pierced Spike's heart and the sword that turned Angel to dust. The only thing he didn't remember was the explosion that made the huge crater. Or why he hadn't died in it.

"Charles? Can you hear me?"

Gunn opened his eyes to ruby red lips and light blue eyes above him.

"Gwen?"

"You're awake?" she asked, her eyes roaming along the lines of his face.

"How did you—?"

"I'll do the talking," said Gwen. "You just…hang out."

He felt the weight move off the mattress as it creaked beneath him. She stood up and walked over to the windows to draw back the shades. Sunlight leapt through the glass and every corner and crevice of the room was exposed to the rays.

"I did it once before. You just needed a little_ jump_. Don't worry, I got you a doctor. Most of your injuries are healed. You just need to rest and let you're body do the fixing."

"I'm done sleeping," he said, putting his hand down on the mattress to lift himself up, but he collapsed instantly.

"Charles, you're arm, it'll never—it won't be what it was."

He was about to ask the obvious question when he lifted his hand out in front of him. It was wrapped around in a bandage, but he could feel it inside the gauze. It was mangled and disfigured, and he could see where the bandage didn't go up as far that a chunk of it was missing. He felt through his whole body, but none of the other limbs felt as lacking as his arm. One broken leg, a disfigured arm and he could feel half his face scraped up—he knew what from. There had also been an incident with a flaming torch that had left the right side of his stomach and back charred. Considering what he went through, these were minuscule prices to pay.

"I'm the only one left," he said, his tone sinking to fit that of morbid.

Gwen looked across the room at him, then her eyes swept the floor. "Yeah, muscles."

"You found me in the hole?" Gunn asked.

"Actually, that was the kid."

"What kid?"

She shifted her feet and cocked and eyebrow, resting one hand on her hip. "Angel's son."

"Angel's—Angel never had a son," said Gunn matter-of-factly. "If he had a son, I would know about it."

"Charles, don't tell me you cracked your head open, too. Cut it out."

A dark-haired boy stepped into the doorway and he looked from Gunn to Gwen. He had brown eyes, a cropped haircut and wore a striped polo and khakis. He addressed electro-girl.

"Don't worry about it, he doesn't know."

"Who're you?"

Gunn rose off the bed carefully with his left arm against the mattress. The boy looked slightly familiar.

"I'm Connor," he said, taking a few steps into the room. "I was a client at your firm, Wolfram and Hart. Freaked out the parents with my 'enhanced abilities.'"

"Yeah…yeah, I remember you. What're you doin' down here?"

"Well, after I slaughtered half of hell's army, I thought I'd save your life."

The boy's mouth had started to form a grin, but Gunn only sat their, propped on his weakening arm in confusion. Gwen sighed loudly and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Do we have to explain everything to you?"

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Thanks for reading! Please review :)  



	2. Felt, Feeling, Feel

**Disclaimer: **Again, I do no own Angel.**  
A/N: ** I got a _bunch_ more reviews for first chapter than I thought I would, so that's sweet. Thanks guys! Please keep reviewing and I'll keep writing.

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The Pain That Doesn't Subside**

Chapter 2  
_Felt,_ _Feeling, Feel_

Charles Gunn sat on the edge of his chair, his head cradled in both palms. Gwen sat across from him, her fingers playing with a spoon. She sighed and as an unexpected result, the spoon was shocked through an electric charge in her fingertips and flew across the room.

"Sorry," she said, her tooth hooking her glazed lip.

The day before, it would have hit Gunn square in the face. Slowly but surly, he had regained his reflexes and the ability to independently sit upright. The slow part of progress stabbed at Gunn's patience like a knife in the back.

"It's been a little goofy since…"

"Yeah. I know."

The next five minutes continued in a similar state of agonizing silence, with no sound but the tapping of painted fingernails on wood. Finally, the anxiety overcame her.

"I need you to stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"What?" Gunn looked up, glaring. "Who said I was feeling sorry for myself?"

"You're moping around, acting like all of this is your fault. Things happen. People die. Just because you were the only survivor on the side of good doesn't mean you have to blame yourself for everyone else not making it out. The only thing you took with you out of the battle—actually, I should probably say the only thing you left behind—was part of your arm. You're healthy now. You're alive. Start acting like it!"

Gunn's eyes never left hers.

"You don't know what it was like," he said softly. "You didn't see them…your friends, lying mangled on the ground, their eyes lifeless. You didn't hear them calling out for help, or feel how hard your stomach fell inside you when you realized there was nothing you could do for them. Don't tell me I'm moping around, feeling sorry for myself when all I can think about is how much my friends deserve to be here instead of me.

"I can't just start my life over, like none of this happened. There's too much to forget. I barely even remember what I was like before I met them."

"Who said you have to forget?"

Gunn rested his hand on the table and drew in a deep breath of air, letting it escape from between his lips in a slow stream. Gwen stood up from her seat and walked around the table to his chair, kneeling down in front of him.

"How do I do this? I can't walk on my own. I can't use my arm. Half my body's numb." He paused, stretching out the fingers on his right hand. "I used to be the muscle…but I don't have any now."

Gwen took his hand. "You _weren't_ just the muscle, Charles. You were the anchor. And what did I tell you before? Being the muscle's nothing to be ashamed of. Hey, it turned me on." That made Gunn give up a tilted smile. "C'mon. Get up. We're leaving."

Gunn attempted to stand up, but fell instantly. Gwen grabbed around his waist to support him and began walking with him towards the door of the room.

"Maybe I missed something, but where the hell are we going?"

"My place." Raising an eyebrow, Gunn began to grin and Gwen, seeing his expression, shoved her hand into his chest. "_Don't_ say a word. I just think you need to get out of this house."

"Sounds good to me," said Gunn, still showing a grin.

They left the house and got into Gwen's Viper. Gunn made a few comments about the car, but Gwen reminded him about the thirty-three million she earned on the job where she first met him.

"Right. The theft thing," he said, nodding. He looked around inside the car and said, "Guess it pays off."

"It _really_ does."


End file.
